


The Disquieting District

by SioDymph



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-12-19 12:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11897337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SioDymph/pseuds/SioDymph
Summary: After their unfortunate stay at Prufrock Prep, the Baudelaire Orphans are sent to live with Mrs. and Mr. Squalor in a penthouse on 667 Dark Avenue in Gotham City.There they make new friends while searching for old ones. And together they face many horrors such as civil corruption, weird tastes in fashion and food, nightmarish villains, being in the dark, red herrings, and deceit lurking around every corner.





	1. An Introduction and a Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is my first fanfic ever for ASOUE or Batman so this should be interesting! (And while I enjoy the show Gotham, I will be taken some liberties with some of the characters. Cause I didn't like how they wrote some of the characters and it's fanfiction so why not?) I'll add more information to the tags as the story continues. Sorry for any spelling and grammar I might have missed.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Before I go any further, I believe it would only be fair to introduce myself. My name is Winifred Montgomery. I once was an upcoming Neurologist and Psychologist in the medical community. A renowned expert of the brain in every manner and function. Now however, due to certain Venturesome but Foolhardy Decisions I have taken up a typewriter and camera to stand in as a documenter in this time of necessity.

Regrettably I had once tried to turn away from my past. Many of my family members had. But in my absence the world has gotten far, far too quiet. The world I once knew has disappeared in smoke. Libraries have been burned. Fortunes have been squandered and lost. Ignorance has clouded even the wisest minds I once knew. Children have been orphaned... And I find that so many I once stood by, those I considered my truest friends, are gone. Most irreversibly so.

So now I dedicate myself to writing, recording and preserving information. In my investigations so far I have come across numerous obstacles and even begun to make many enemies. But I have also been able to regain a few friends and make some new allies. One such man is an inspiring but very skittish writer who has helped me in more ways than he probably knows. A funny twist of fate since he so adamantly tried to get me to abandon these investigations the first time we met. He begged me to escape while I still could, go live an ordinary happy life. Yet even then his advice was sincere, showing that under all assumptions one might have he truly was one of the best of the best when it comes to this line of writing.

Thanks to his work as well as my own now, we have been able to recover the truth of what happened to the Baudelaires when they shortly lived in Gotham City as well as the occurrences for many of their friends. This is their story.

The Story you have decided to read, very frankly, is unpleasant with little fortune to be found and if I were you I would choose one of the other numerous stories published onto this website. Perhaps something about a young farm boy who discovers his curious powers? Or maybe the misadventures of a warrior princess who single-handedly saves the day? Anything but this melancholy tale of the Baudelaire siblings and the poor fate that awaits them and all their friends.

This is a story of a corrupt city with cruel and cowardly citizens. A story where nothing is quite as it appears. A story with disguises and deceit, horrible fashion trends, trained animals, tricks and traps, and neutral parties. A story while so upsetting to read, one can only imagine how stressful and traumatizing it was for all those who lived through it.

However if you really feel drawn to this story, there’s nothing I could say that would stop you. You’re a person free to make your own choices and free to suffer all the consequences that come your way.

And if you do decide to continue further I only ask this. When you read this story, truly read it. Sit down and read the names of every person. Every child. Read what happens to them. Don’t leave when things become difficult. And if you can please remember. As many of them have no one else to care for them or hold onto them in memory.

Because even while this story is filled with hardship and heartbreak, this is also a story of blooming friendships, discovery, courage and compassion. I adamantly believe this is a story of what it means to be a volunteer. A true volunteer. Certainly truer than any volunteer I’ve ever known and especially myself.

With everything that has happened I can no longer try to forget. It may be too late to help any of the children who suffered so many horrors, but I can still try to save their legacy. Recover their truth. Keep their memories safe and properly sourced. Ensure the tragedies they have faced do not go forgotten and erased like so many others I once knew. And while I can only write for a handful of families at this time I dedicate my work to all those who have been hurt and traumatized since the schism years ago and all those who are still hurt by it today.

We must remember the forgotten. We must heal what has been hurt. We must save what can still be saved.

And maybe, just maybe, we will rise back up from these ashes.

It’s the only hope I have left.


	2. Chapter 1: Gotham City

If you can help it, don’t go to Gotham.

It’s not worth a visit. Definitely not worth a vacation. It’s not even worth a day-trip. If you’ve had the misfortune of being in this city longer than a few hours you already know why. But if you haven’t I can only do my best to explain all of the unpleasantness that is Gotham City.

Skyscrapers constantly tower over you. A few are modern but most are so old they could collapse at any moment from years of weathering and decay. If you look up towards any precipice you’ll most likely see an army of stone gargoyles staring back down at you. I myself could never tell if they were threatening me or mocking me. Either way wherever you walk the eerie feeling you’re being watched lingers, clinging to your shoulders and running up and down your spine. And because the buildings are so tall, you can never see the sun rise or set, the only clue that a day is over is the rusty orange that over takes the sky before the city quickly plunges into darkness.

It’s a horrible darkness at nighttime. Sidewalks without working street lights are next to impossible to navigate. Even the streets with light look far too ominous and creepy for you to ever comfortably walk down the street in the evening. And if you look up towards the night sky, it’s said that if you see a break in the clouds the sky will look a deep blood red.

Not to mention the people who actually live there. Manners might as well be a foreign language in Gotham. Between the haughty elite who see themselves as superior to everyone else, all the way down to the overworked citizens themselves. Far too tired, defensive and bitter to bother with wasted words like “please” when everything including time is a limited resource.

And while most communities have some crime, Gotham seems inseparably chained to its darker underbelly. Every horrible thing you could possibly imagine being done by a human not only exists in Gotham but thrives there. In my stay in the city, retracing the steps of the Baudelaire’s and their friends, I have seen unspeakable things, things I still can’t bring myself to type. It’s left me feeling disgusted and terrified knowing the truth of this city. You’re never safe. I’ve heard stories of people being robbed and brutally attacked in broad daylight. I’ve even experienced it myself. I’ve also seen with my own eyes how mobs and their weasels oversee factories and neighborhoods all across town, working in cahoots with some of the police force. Ruling with an iron fist.

And not only are all these terrible, uncomfortable things true but worst of all there are also far too many owls in the city for my liking…

When I came to Gotham to conduct my investigations and research, I wished someone had warned me of how horrible the city could be. But even more than that I desperately wish someone had warned the Baudelaires too as they drove into town for the first time.

But one of their first misfortunes during their stay in Gotham was the fact that nobody could have possibly warned them of Gotham’s twisted side, nor all the dangers they would soon face.

Instead they sat in the backseat of Mr. Poe’s car as he drove them across Gotham Bridge into the city to their newest home.

“Isn’t this so exciting children?” Mr. Poe said gleefully, looking everywhere from the river flowing under them to the buildings towering over them to the car in front of them he almost rear-ended. “Gotham City! Have you ever been here before?”

“No, Mr. Poe. This will be our first time in Gotham.” The eldest child, Violet Baudelaire answered politely. She currently felt much less enthusiastic than her banker but even she couldn’t resist the city’s initial charms. Being a young but passionate Inventor she looked up at the cables, thicker around than her whole body that suspended the bridge above the icy west river. Her mind of gears and levers went to work figuring out how the bridge was still standing strong almost 80 years after its construction.

“Great! It’s a wonderful place! I’m sure you all will love it here. And how many children can say they actually live in Gotham City?” Mr. Poe continued.

“Several million.” The middle Baudelaire sibling, Klaus, said under his breath. Like his older sister he felt more apathetic towards their latest home. Even with the beautiful buildings that drew his eyes upwards. It brought to mind all the books he’d read on gothic architecture and the history of Gotham which he read about two years ago. He could still recall the chapter on how the city drew inspiration from many European influences and aspired to build a city that would be a proper rival to places like Paris, London or Rome.

“I don’t know if I told you but I came here once as a boy with my family. The buildings! The museums! Oh, there was even a carnival in town during our visit! What I wouldn’t’ give to be in your shoes right this minute children. I’ve always wished I could live in the city!” Mr. Poe exclaimed before quickly breaking again as traffic reached another standstill on the bridge. For a moment the elated look on his face fell into a scowl but he quickly forced himself to keep smiling. “Of course, when you actually live here you children won’t have to worry about cars or traffic. You’ll be able to take the trolley and the subway anywhere you may need to go! With your guardian’s permission of course.”

“Gettaboutit.” The youngest, Sunny Baudelaire, shouted from her car seat as she gnawed on a hard rubber ball. She was a tiny blonde tike who still enjoyed speaking in nonsense words while she learned English. And even while she eyed the ashen-looking city with some curiosity she couldn’t find it in herself to feel more excited.

“What’s the matter Baudelaires?” Mr. Poe said. Often times he could be oblivious, but being alone in the car with the three youngsters he could see how upset the children were clear as day. All three of them sat in a row, looking at the city fast approaching solemn and tight-lipped. “I thought you all would enjoy your newest home more…”

As for the Baudelaires none of them knew exactly what to say.

First and foremost all of them were still wrecked with fear for the Quagmires, Isadora and Duncan. Two of their only friends in the world. And Olaf had kidnapped them. Where he took them, they had no idea. The children still felt horribly guilty for their friend’s capture, they blamed themselves for putting the two triplets directly in harm’s way.

The second feeling the Baudelaires shared was doubt. After the death of their parents a seed had been planted in all three children. And with each place they were moved to that seed grew heavier, sadder, and more bitter. So much so that as they drove into the city they all morbidly wondered how long they would stay with a guardian this time. If they would be forced to work like Sir did, or if they would be beaten and hurt, or worst of all what if they were sincere and truly wanted to care for them like Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine had. And when would Olaf finally rear his ugly head. After several attacks the Baudelaire’s had learned no matter what Count Olaf would always find them. It was only a matter of time.

And while none of them said it out loud, they still wondered if it would be better to be caught by Olaf. At least then they might finally find the whereabouts of the Quagmires.

But the Baudelaires said none of the things truly on their mind. Violet told a white lie instead. “I think we’re all just tired from the trip. We have been driving all day to get here after all.”

This was enough to appease Mr. Poe and he looked away from his mirror and towards the road. “Ah, you children certainly have had a long day. But we'll be at your new home soon… You’re very lucky actually, you’ll be living in the Gotham’s own diamond district! You’re guardians are very wealthy. I’m sure you’ll fit right in with their crowd, seeing as you have an enormous fortune as well. Or rather, Violet will have an enormous fortune when she inherits it in a few years.”

“And who are our Guardians exactly?” Klaus couldn’t help but ask bluntly. “You still haven’t told us who they are.”

“I haven’t?” Mr. Poe said.

“Nadda.” Sunny chirped along with her brother.

“I apologize. I guess I was so excited to visit Gotham I completely forgot.” Mr. Poe said. “Anyhow, seeing as this blasted traffic isn’t moving an inch I think I have time to let you know now. You Guardian’s name is Jerome Squalor, you will be living with him and his wife here in Gotham City’s Uptown.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what does Mr. Squalor do exactly?” Violet asked.

“And how is he related to us?” Klaus asked.

“He’s… He’s… Oh dear I don’t quite remember. I have it all written in your file, but that’s in the trunk with all of your luggage. You can read it later if you like.

Klaus sank into his seat grumbling and Violet quickly spoke over him. “Thank you Mr. Poe, we’ll be sure to look at that. And you said he’s married?”

“Yes! That I do know for certain.” Mr. Poe replied. “Her names is Esmé. She’s a lovely woman. One of the finest financial advisors in the city, I believe. My wife Eleanor did an interview with her about a year ago. And both she and Mr. Squalor have told me they're ecstatic to be taking you three in.”

“If they’re so ecstatic to have us, why didn’t they adopt us earlier? Why did we have to attend Prufrock? Why did we have to work in a lumber mill?” Klaus snapped a little more harshly than he’d intended.

Mr. Poe’s smile fell and he was about to lecture Klaus on his manners when the traffic finally let up.

“I sincerely hope you don’t treat your new guardians with this much disrespect and sass, Klaus.” Mr. Poe warned. “I told them you were all very nice, well-behaved children. I’d hate to have you besmirch my reputation as well as your own… Besmirch mean to dishonor.”

Despite how badly he wanted to tell Mr. Poe they already knew the definition of “Besmirch” Klaus didn’t respond. He didn’t apologize either. He just huffed and crossed his arms, his mind reeling with questions no one ever seemed able to answer.

And as the roads became clearer and they finally entered the City of Gotham, Mr. Poe’s mood began to lighten again. “Not long now, Baudelaires. And if you do have any trouble, there is a Mulctuary Money Management branch right here in the city! So you can talk to the people who work there and they can directly message me with any of your questions or concerns. But I should warn you I’ll be very busy these next few weeks, you see I was recently promoted at the bank! I am now oficially the Vice President in Charge of Orphan affairs! That means I-“

As Mr. Poe continued talking about his banking work each of the Baudelaire’s found themselves looking out the window at Gotham City. It was a far cry from the small isolated buildings of Prufrock, built exactly alike and spaced out to look like headstones. Here buildings were all squeezed together, packed in tightly. And each one varied in styles and height. It almost reminded Violet and Klaus of their home city, if it had several more million people living there an had been much larger and towering. Driving through Gotham all the way on the ground made the Baudelaire’s feel ridiculously small in comparison.

The sun had been visible throughout the afternoon, but now as it grew closer to the evening the sun disappeared behind the city. Casting long shadows down across the streets.

 “I wonder when Count Olaf will show up and ruin this.” Klaus mused under his breath so Mr. Poe couldn’t hear.

“Klaus…” Violet tried to say, but she was thinking the same thing and they both knew it. Olaf would be coming. And in such a large city he’d have plenty of hiding places.

“Izzadunkn’.” Sunny added, doing her best to say Isadora and Duncan.

“Hopefully this time Olaf finds us soon.” Klaus said. “The quicker he starts harassing us the quicker we can figure out where he’s keeping the Quagmires.”

“We have to be careful though. We won’t be any help them if we’re captured too.” Violet added in a hushed voice.

“You’re right. We need a plan…” Klaus said, trying to recall all the books he’d read on detective work and hostage situations.

Mr. Poe continued driving through Gotham, driving further away from the humdrum along the water and towards its center till they came to what Mr. Poe had referred to as the city’s “Diamond District”. He began counting the avenue names out loud and slowed his car down to a crawl.

“Now let’s see, we’re getting close. 662… 663… 664… 665… … 667! This is our street children! Take a look at your new home!”

The Baudelaires looked out at their street to see where the Squalor’s lived and where they would soon be living indefinitely.


	3. Chapter 2: 667th Dark Avenue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter! Just so it's known, I went back and edited the first two chapters slightly so if you read them and they seem different that's why, I'm sorry if that throws anyone off. And the next chapter should be coming out soon!

The Baudelaire youngsters weren’t quite sure what to expect from the name 667th Dark Avenue. Klaus had envisioned a street filled with black buildings and that was why the word “Dark” was added to the street address. Violet had assumed maybe all the apartments on this street were small and were always overshadowed by the skyscrapers surrounding them. Sunny thought maybe somewhere else in Gotham there might be a “667 Light Avenue” and the two needed to be differentiated.

What came into view however was something that caught all three children by surprise. There were no street lamps in sight. Instead along the sidewalk, sprouted directly from the concrete, were gigantic trees. The width and height of buildings themselves. The Baudelaires couldn’t help but gaze in slack jawed wonder. Even while staying in Lucky Smells lumber mill they had never seen trees so… gargantuan. The branches full of leaves were so knitted together absolutely no light made it past them, making it impossible to see the moon and few stars visible in Gotham’s overcast skies.

And as Mr. Poe drove onto the street and under the cover of those trees the Baudelaires were plunged into near-complete darkness they hadn’t quite known before. They had to squint just to make out each other’s faces inside the car, let alone the world outside.

Mr. Poe grumbled for a few moments before clicking his headlights to their brightest settings and slowly driving along the way. “If I had known it would get so dark here I would have thought twice about packing some flashlights.” He said more to himself then the children, “But don’t worry, I’m sure once you’ve settled in you’ll have no problem finding your way. You children can be very resourceful after- There! Look! I believe this is the place!”

The children turned to see where Mr. Poe had excitedly gestured to as he began the slow process of parallel parking. By appearances alone it looked nearly identical to every other apartment complex along the avenue. None of the buildings even had signs or numbers to differentiate themselves.

“Maybe it will look different in the morning when it isn’t so dark.” Violet said.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. Most things do seem different when put under a different light. Or any light at all.” Mr. Poe added lightly. When he finally parked he clapped his hands and stepped out of his car. “Well Baudelaires, I believe it’s time to meet your new guardians.”

While Klaus held Sunny, Violet went back to the trunk with Mr. Poe to carry the small suitcase that held everything the Baudelaires still possessed. Mismatched sets of old clothes from their first few guardians, their old school uniforms and half-filled workbooks they had been allowed to keep after being expelled, a whole spyglass, a box of matches for the candles back in their crab-filled room at the school, a bag of homemade staples and two notebooks that didn’t belong to them wrapped in parchment for safe keeping.

Mr. Poe in turn carried his briefcase and the thick file filled with documents and contracts for the Squalors.

“Can I see the file now Mr. Poe?” Klaus asked as soon as he saw the manila folder in his hands.

The Banker slammed the trunk shut with his elbow. “No. Klaus you’re holding your baby sister. And it would be very irresponsible of me to hand you something I know would distract you when you should be careful.”

“I could hold Sunny, then both his hands would be free.” Violet offered.

“But you would be holding Sunny with just one hand. I’m sorry but that’s no safer.” Mr. Poe said with a sigh. “Besides, it’s much too dark out here to even read the papers. I promise you children, I’ll give you the file once we get to the Squalor’s residence. Then you can read all of the paper with some light. But please, just be patient.”

None of the children were happy with this but went quiet as they approached the main entrance. From what the children could see the inside the complex was completely dark. In fact not a single light could be seen from any of the windows along the street either now that the Baudelaires thought about it more.

“Were Mr. And Mrs. Squalor expecting us to arrive so late?” Klaus asked.

“I’m sure this complex just turned off its lights for the night to conserve energy. It is early morning after all.” Mr. Poe said, seeing the unease in the children.

 “Or maybe there was a power outage in this part of the city?” Violet added.

“I bet you as soon as we go in some light will come on and then we will find our way!” Mr. Poe said before ushering the youngsters closer.

A man wearing large sunglasses said nothing to them as he opened the doors and passed by him and into the apartments. Mr. Poe and the children all stepped inside. Waiting a few moments to see if any lights would come on. When none did Mr. Poe muttered under his breath. “I don’t suppose any of you children have a flash light on you?”

“No.” Klaus said, beginning to sulk even worse than in the car. How on earth would they find their way through this? He could barely see his little sister directly in front of his face!

“I’ll go see if that oddly dressed doorman does. I’ll be right back.” Mr. Poe said, before heading back for the main doors. The Baudelaires noticed every so often he’d turn back around to make sure they were still there. A bit annoying and unjustified but given the sort of trouble the Buadelaires had gotten into the past, sadly understandable.

How were they supposed to get to the Squalor apartment when they couldn’t make it through the main lobby? Violet frowned at the current problem surrounding them. But slowly an idea was coming to her. She set down her suitcase and pulled her hair back so she could think better.

They had matches they could light. But those could only provide so much light. And if Violet held one for too long they would burn her fingers. However light could also be refracted through lenses, made brighter, more direct. Violet unzipped their suitcase digging through its content until she had both the spyglass and their matches.

“Do you guys remember the time on Lake Lachrymose? When we needed light and used the spyglass?” Violet said as she held both components to her current invention and began fiddling.

“Yes, but I don’t see how setting a fire is a safe idea.” Klaus said quickly. “Burning our new home to the ground hardly sounds like a good first impression.”

“Well, what if I can use this spyglass the make the light less concentrated?” Violet asked as she twisted the focus dials on the spyglass this way and that. Fingers brushing along the numbered grooves as she did so. Until finally she struck a match and set it directly next to the eyehole. Sure enough a yellow-white light poured out of the spyglass. It was faint and only went out a few feet around of the Baudelaires. But after standing in such a thick near-darkness the light was illuminating to the youngsters.

“Oh be careful Violet!” Mr. Poe shouted as he hurried back towards the Baudelaires. “I leave you alone for just a few minutes and-”

“We make a light ourselves.” Klaus said with a huff.

“I can see that. But it’s no excuse to through all caution to the wind. And what did I say about minding your manners Klaus?” Mr. Poe snapped before forcing himself to breathe and calm down.

Violet stood up slowly and tried to appease Mr. Poe, “I assure you Mr. Poe, I will be very careful. I have my hair tied back to avoid the flame. And as long as I have a clear path I can light the way.”

Mr. Poe might have argued longer but after such a long night his patience had thinned much further than he normally could handle. And after all, a source of light was a source of light. “Alright. But use the upmost caution Miss. I swear, if the board ever hears about this I’ll be done as Vice President in Charge of Orphan Affaires before I even begin!”

As Violet held her makeshift invention and Klaus held Sunny, Mr. Poe bent down, putting the folder in his briefcase then repacking the Baudelaire’s suitcase. Carrying both items he led the way to the line of elevators with Violet at his side providing light and Klaus following close behind. As Mr. Poe pressed a button and they began waiting for their lift, the Baudelaire’s banker turned to speak to the children, coughing into his handkerchief first to try and clear his throat.

“Look. I know you’re all tired, it’s dark, I drove for hours through that wretched traffic, but you children are about to meet your new guardians and you must collect yourselves. Because I refuse to let you three ruin this first impression with open flames and sour attitudes. So please muster up those fine manners I know you were all raised with and try to put your best foot forwards with the Squalors.”

“We will. I promise, Mr. Poe.” Violet said with a nod.

“Thank you Violet. As eldest I’m sure you’ll keep your siblings in line as you should.” Mr. Poe said. They waited there for several more minutes but no elevators appeared to arrive. Not even the signs seemed to be turned on. Mr. Poe pressed an elevator button several more times rapidly but that only gave the same result of nothing. “What on earth?”

“If there’s been a power outage that must have shut down the elevators as well.” Violet said, looking closer at the buttons and elevator door to see if any clues could be seen from the outside.

The Doorman outside suddenly opened the door and lean in, calling out “Elevators are out!” before once again shutting the door and ignoring them.

“Of course, we can see that now.” Mr. Poe said with a groan as he picked up both cases once again. “The Squalors live on the 13th floor and we can’t wait the rest of the night down here waiting for an elevator. I guess we’ll have to take their stairs children.”

Thus following Mr. Poe they began the very long climb up a spiraling staircase near the opposite end of the lobby. The long climb was only made longer since Violet had to walk slowly to keep her matches lit. And whenever one died out and the group was plunged into darkness they had to flounder for a few steps until Violet could light another match and place it near the spyglass. They climbed the stairs in silence only interrupted by Mr. Poe’s bouts of coughing or Violet quietly asking them to stop for a moment so she could light another match.

When they were roughly 3/4ths up the flight of stairs, Violet counted the matches left and realized they might not have enough to light their whole way. So the rest of the way up their stairs they had to carefully ration out when they used light. Sometimes for several stories they would stumble up the stairs in complete darkness to make sure they had at least some light when they arrived at the top floor so they could find the Squalor’s door.

 “A-Carter.” Sunny grumbled with a pout. If I were to guess what she meant it might have been, “We’ve been here less than an hour and I’m already sick of this dark dark apartment on this dark dark street!”

“Don’t worry Sunny, we shouldn’t have to climb for much longer.” Violet said. When she lit another match they all saw a sign bronze sign marked for the 13th floor.

Mr. Poe sighed in relief before violently coughing into his handkerchief. “Ugh finally! I was beginning to feel short of breath! Come on, this way, we’re nearly there!”

Using her very last two matches Violet’s makeshift flashlight lit their way down a hall to a door with a bronze plate that read “Squalor’s Residence”.

As Mr. Poe knocked on the door Violet’s last match died out, she shook it to cool off just like she did with the rest before tucking it in the matchbox in her pocket. She didn’t want to litter as they made their way up so she had chosen to risk her safety and kept all of the used matches in her pocket after they cooled down.

Mr. Poe and the children could hear two sets of feet quickly making their way to the door. As they got closer and closer, Mr. Poe turned to them, whispering. “Please remember what I said earlier, about good impressions and manners.”

The children all gave him an affirmative nod and tried to relax their faces into smiles. However they were standing in near-darkness so Mr. Poe saw none of this.

“Do you promise to behave?”

“Of course Mr. Poe.” Violet answered.

Mr. Poe nodded back but the Baudelaires could not see this either. “Good. Hopefully this might be a happy ending to such a miserable evening. First the traffic, and now a power outage. But at least now you’re finally home.”

In that moment, it was difficult for any of the Baudelaires to envision this dark apartment building as home. Nor was it any easier for them to envision a colossal, dark place as cruel as Gotham as home either. But regardless of their doubt in Mr. Poe, they tried to put their best foot forwards. And smile in near-darkness as they heard the door being opened.

I could not live in this miserable waste of a city recounting the Baudelaire children’s lives if I weren’t honest. So I feel it is my duty to warn you now that no matter how hard the children put on good smiles and mined their manners, none of it was seen and both the Squalors would form their own biases towards the Baudelaires just as Mr. Poe had by now. However even with bad traffic, bad lights, and bad impressions, the Baudelaires would look back on tonight as “inconvenient at best” in comparison to the many horrible nights soon to come in their unfortunate lives.

But worse yet, the Baudelaire’s first night would seem like a dream compared to the first night the Quagmires had in Gotham.


	4. Chapter 3: A less Pleasant Way to Enter the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the latest chapter! For this fic I decided to have some chapters change perspectives, at least until some characters finally meet. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Also just so it's known I have gone through this chapter and done some editing. So if you read it again and it looks slightly different I promise you're not crazy I just fixed some of my grammar and a few sentences and phrases.)

In a place as massive as Gotham it would make sense that there are many different ways to enter and exit the city. Some more pleasant, as well as more expensive, than others. And likewise there are ways all the more uncomfortable though more convenient for some. And having conducted this investigation I may have discovered one of the absolute worst ways to enter Gotham. Even with bumper-to-bumper traffic on Gotham Bridge like the Baudelaires and Mr. Poe faced, taking hours to slowly inch across the bridge and actually enter the city, there are far worse ways to enter Gotham. Even when sitting in a cramped subway underground like I had, feeling strangers breathing down your back and looking out a window at the dizzying void rushing past, there are far far worse ways to enter Gotham…

To this day the manner in which the Quagmire triplets were brought into Gotham City is the most horrifying and depressing way I have ever heard.

The two had been trying to sleep when they were rudely awoken. Olaf’s car hit a hole in the road making everyone inside bounce. Their heads smacked into the roof of a dog crate they had been crammed into hours before. Being so forcibly brought back to the land of the living, the Quagmire youngsters had no choice but to once again realize their grim predicament. The time between being taken from Prufrock Prep and their current state had become a blur very quickly. And since they never saw sunlight nor slept on a regular schedule it was impossible to know for certain how long they had been in Olaf’s clutches.

The only thing Isadora and Duncan knew for sure was that they had been forced into dog costumes and crammed into a crate to be smuggled onto a plane. And now it seemed they were back in Olaf’s car with his theater troupe. None of whom gave them a second look as they woke up in pain and confusion.

Duncan’s face stung like he had been harshly slapped. Isadora could already feel a welt forming on the side of her head. Neither of them could even rub their heads to relieve some of the pain because their hands had been tied behind their backs.

“Are you ok?” Isadora asked while groaning. Her head stung and she felt claustrophobic having nowhere to move.

Duncan wasn’t fairing much better. His face burned and his left arm felt like static and fuzz after going completely numb in his sleep. But still he replied back dryly. “Fine. But I would feel a lot better if we weren’t tied up and locked in a dog crate.”

“This has to be the most hor-”

Isadora was quickly interrupted when suddenly the crate was being kicked by one of Olaf’s minions. The force sent Duncan slamming into his sister as the whole cage rattled.

“Hush up ya pups!” The large, bald man barked.

“Yeah! We can hardly catch any sleep with you two yipping all night!” One of the powdered-faced woman said while her sister giggled.

“Dumb dogs!” Another crew member said and the whole troupe began to laugh. They kicked the cage a few more times making it creak terribly. The two wondered if the cage might collapse with them inside if the so-called actors kept this up. There was only so much weight the plastic and metal frame could take.

“Everyone SHUT UP!” The whole car quickly fell silent when Olaf erupted from behind the wheel. He paused dramatically for a moment, reveling in the car’s silence before continuing. “I have been driving, and flying, and smuggling all day long and I swear the next person who lets sound pass their lips gets tossed out into the Narrows with only a spoon for self-defense!”

“What kind of spoon?” The troupe member of undisclosed gender asked. “… Sorry Boss.”

Olaf scowled at his minion through the review mirror, watching as they shrunk away. “Plastic. The really flimsy stuff. So Shut! Up!”

Only the sounds of the engine churning and an easily forgotten pop song on the radio filled the car after that. And after a few awkward minutes ticked by the tenseness in the car steadily relaxed.

When Isadora finally repeated herself she made sure to keep her voice well below a whisper so only her brother could hear. “This has to be the worst thing Olaf has done to us yet.”

Duncan nodded, not trusting himself to speak quietly enough to go ignored by the rest of the car. It truly was the worst thing yet. But what could they do about it? They were Olaf’s prisoners, no one knew where they were and rescue felt less and less likely the longer the ordeal went on. They were completely at the mercy of whatever horrible and humiliating schemes Olaf could concoct for them. In the beginning they had just been tied up with tape over their mouths. Then Olaf had hidden them in a factory, threatening to cut off their limbs if they tried to call out for help. And the places Olaf took them and the schemes he forced them to play parts in kept getting worse and worse. Neither Duncan nor Isadora wanted to imagine what Olaf would do next.

Neither triplet had much else to say. And despite still feeling tired they were too uncomfortable now to try falling back asleep. So they stayed huddled together in the cage in silence as Olaf kept driving. Where they were going Duncan and Isadora had no idea but it had to be far away from where Olaf kept them last to warrant both a flight and incredibly boring car ride, all while locked in a small cage and wearing dog costumes.

Duncan kept squirming, trying to find an angle in the crate where he could stop putting so much weight into his numb left arm. At the same time Isadora, who had feeling in both her arms still, went to work loosening the ropes on her hands.

The two had come to learn that if you tensed your arms for a long time it could actually stretch out the ropes and loosen them enough to pull free. It could take a while depending on the circumstances but it was very much worth it to no longer have your arms uncomfortably forced behind your back. And as long as the two of them stayed quiet and didn’t make any large movements they could sometimes go hours unconfined without anyone noticing. It was a trick the two had become well-practiced in being trapped with Olaf. A very useful trick indeed. I know personally it has come in handy countless times in my life. Especially now as I run into my own fair share of unsavory figures here in Gotham as I document this portion of the Quagmires lives as well as the lives of their friends.

When Isadora finally had her ropes loose enough to slip free her wrists they were sore but she could finally stop the ache that had formed in her shoulders. And moving as quietly as she could she undid her brother’s bonds so he could finally massage the life back into his numb arm. She would have tried to undo the bonds around their feet as well but she feared if she leaned over too much one of Olaf lackeys might see so they made do with just their free hands. It was odd, but mostly sad, how such a small thing as being able to move one’s arms had become something the triplets looked forward to. But still it brought them a slight joy to at least have some agency over themselves as they were crammed into a small dog crate.

After perhaps another half-hour of driving Olaf brought the car to a screeching halt that sent all the occupants inside falling forwards and knocked back by the force.

“Everyone out!” Olaf shouted, as his minions shuffled to do as he said he paused. “Everyone except the dogs. If you two move a single inch before I get back I’ll know. And I’ll make you suffer.”

The children couldn’t help but shiver at the man’s cruel words. Especially when his voice dropped down to a growl like a ravenous monster. He and his troupe laughed at the fearful looks on the children’s faces before slamming the door shut. They could hear Olaf bark a few more muffled orders before it seemed like everyone was walking away. Then it became deathly silent. Isadora and Duncan were completely alone. Locked in a cage and left in the dark. The only light coming into the car came from the hazy yellow street lamps that leaked through the tinted windows. It filled the car with an eerie glow and long shadows.

Duncan was the first to move, undoing his bound legs, crawling back as far as he could and turning around to sit up right. Or at least as close to up right as he could with the roof of the cage right above them. He ended up in a hunched position with his legs tucked into his chest. Isadora moved next once there was a bit more space in their tight confinement. But instead of sitting up right, she rolled over and leaned back so her shoulders pressed against the side of the cage and her legs sprawled out while tring to accommodate her brother.

With the weak light both triplets could see the sad state of one another. Duncan with his bruised face, Isadora with her tender head, and both with the baggy exhausted eyes and ridiculous dog costumes. They both remembered the moment Olaf had first forced them to put on the costumes. They had taken one look at each other before they burst out laughing bitterly. It was the first funny thing the two had seen since being kidnapped. But after so much time still in the dog suits, it was far less humorous. They were hot and bulky and they couldn’t wait to be rid of the ugly things.

There was also a question shared silently as they looked at one another. One that had been on their minds constantly since being captured. Was this that golden opportunity they’d been waiting for? The perfect moment to try and escape?

On one hand, hey had been left completely alone, no one would be around to see them. It didn't sound like anyone was outside guarding the car either, usually Olaf and his associates were loud even when they tried to be sneaky. Not to mention the troupe heckling earlier had broken the cage slightly. Just a few more swift kicks and the edges of the cage were sure to crack. And now that their hands and feet were free…

But on the other hand, there was still the threats Olaf had given them. After being around Olaf so long they knew he was a man who went through with his threats. And even without threats he was always prone to fits and rage that took violent turns if the still-healing bruises on Duncan’s arm were anything to go by.

But there was also a third mutant hand growing out of their situation. The two couldn’t help but wonder when would they ever get another opportunity like this? If they ever would? And Duncan and Isadora both realized the longer they waited the smaller their window to act grew.

So as they looked at one another, without saying a word, they made a decision. One that might have very well set the course for the rest of their lives…

Working together, they kicked and kicked at the walls of the cage until the wretched thing finally broke. And not thinking twice at all the ruckus they were making they pried the rear doors open and stumbled onto their street.

“Hey! Where do you think you're going?!”

As it turned out one of Olaf’s associates had stayed behind to keep watch. The troupe member of undisclosed gender was racing after them, plastic spoon in hand.

“Run!” Isadora screamed, grabbing her brother’s hand and pulling him forwards.

They both ran as fast as they could. Having spent so much time tied up and locked in a dog crate their legs had been cramped and underused. The children stumbled at first, like young fawns learning to walk. But the two kept firm grips on one another, refusing to let the other fall down or fall behind. They refused to look back, even when they heard the troupe member chuck their only spoon at them. Isadora and Duncan just ran.

If you’ve ever found yourself somewhere you’ve never been without a single clue for guidance then you’d know the clenching fear that sinks into your chest. Much like the sinking feeling the Quagmires felt as they ran through the darkened streets of Gotham City. If I could have warned poor Duncan and Isadora about anything I would have warned them that they were currently running through some of the most dangerous, most horrible streets in all of Gotham. That they were currently in the Narrows. And not even having plastic spoons to protect themselves…

But even without being warned the children knew they were in trouble. After several blocks the two hid away in an alley to catch their breath.

“I can’t believe it.” Duncan said in-between labored breaths. “It actually worked!”

“I guess all that running Nero and Olaf made us do finally paid off.” Isadora added snidely.

And still gasping they both found themselves laughing. While it had happened the two had loathed being forced to run all the time. First because Vice Principle Nero had been too lazy and self-involved to think of anything else and then again when Olaf came and would mockingly say “orphans are great running specimens” in that forced, annoying voice. It was nice to think now it was something they could use against the terrible man. It was funny to them at least, to imagine that Olaf regretted ever forcing them to run so much.

“So now what?” Isadora asked.

Now what indeed.

Often times while recording these accounts I try to imagine myself when I was their age having to go through the sort of situations the Quagmires and all their friends have gone through. What I would have done if I were kidnapped from my school, from my only friends, and dragged across the country to one of the absolute worst cities in the world, and when I finally escaped my kidnappers I found myself in one of the worst districts there. What on earth would I have done when I was thirteen, alone on the streets in a place like Gotham, in the dead of night, no money, no clue where I was, weaponless and lost, wearing a dirty school uniform and bulky dog costume, all while I knew my kidnappers were on the prowl searching for me?

Regardless of how I would react however, this is exactly how the Quagmires spent their first night in Gotham City.


	5. Chapter 4: Dog People and Cat People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look at that, only took like 4 chapters to finally introduce some Gotham characters to this crossover lol! It's a little longer than I first expected but hey hopefully that makes up for the longer time it took to write. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Oh! And Happy Holidays!

Often times when one goes to write a story with many different characters it becomes inevitable that the written viewpoint must occasionally change from one character to another to further the story in a way that can still make sense to a reader. Granted even if this is true it can often come with mixed results. I know whenever I read stories of this manner I often end up rooting for one character, skipping only to chapters they are involved in before going back to the beginning, choosing another character and doing the whole thing again and again until I finally finish the story.

However as I recount the unfortunate circumstances the Baudelaire and Quagmire children faced I feel it is now time to switch perspectives a third time and introduce a new party that also suffered in the youngsters’ plight.

After all, Duncan and Isadora weren’t the only boy and girl wandering through the city. Even with all its risks many young people would still go out into the night. Leaving the safety of their homes for the dangers of Gotham at dark, whether it be for matters of circumstances or for personal reasons.

One boy and girl in particular, silently making their way through the narrow streets of the Narrows side by side, had motivations both very similar and yet very different to one another.

For the young man, an orphan, dark coat zipped all the way up to his chin and brown eyes scanning over every passing person with a laser-pointed focus, he was trying to understand. He’d always called the city home but as he got older he realized he didn’t know his home quite as well as he’d thought. He was seeking the truth. He was seeking answers. But most of all he wanted to find some sort of solution to all the troubles that plagued his city. While he’d lived a sheltered life he’d also been impressively well-read. And he had been raised in a good home by some of the most compassionate, caring people I have ever had the honor of meeting. Even now as he saw the vile, uncaring truth of this place he held onto all the kindness he’d been taught as a boy. With a naïve wisdom he felt confident he could find a way to save Gotham.

As for the young lady, who considered herself as good as an orphan, curly blond hair stuffed into a cap and hands seemingly relaxed at the moment but always ready to pull out the knife hiding in her pocket, she held no false-assumptions about her home. Like her counterpart she too was born and raised in the city but unlike him she’d lived in the cold, cruel world of the Narrows. Most nights if she went out it was for survival. For finding people, finding things, stealing things, making money, making deals, anything that would keep food in her pantry and some sense of purpose in her life. It was a necessity. But tonight she wasn’t quite sure why she’d come out. Her mind and heart had mixed–feelings about her friend’s self-imposed mission to fix their home.  She mostly felt doubt that her friend could really make any difference, anger that he never seemed to understand, and a fear of seeing him fail horribly.

While the two didn’t always see eye to eye, they’d grown close enough to consider themselves friends, partners against the dark city. Even if they didn’t see each other often. Sometimes one could spend months apart from the other, focusing on their more personal goals. But when they did see one another it was usually out-of-the-blue, and once they were together they would spend hours, days even, at each other’s sides before prying themselves away and disappearing again.

Today had been one of those days, the boy had come looking for her and they’d spent the entire day together. Evening turned into the wee hours of morning. Still neither one made a move to leave the other just yet. They were quietly walking through the Narrows when they caught sight of two children around their age on the opposite side of the street. Two very strange children.

The girl noticed them first, and being well-read in the unspoken rules of the city adamantly refused to make eye-contact and kept walking. Her friend unfortunately wasn’t in-tune to such rules yet and openly stared at the two. They looked like identical twins. And they were both wearing filthy dog costumes. But what caught his attention the most was the fact that they seemed so frightened. They seemed like they needed help. At least a warm meal and a change of clothes. Without realizing it he’d begun inching towards the edge of the sidewalk, aiming to cross the street to approach the dog-clad kids.

“Bruce,” The girl hissed, grabbing her friend’s arm and yanking him back. “Don’t.”

Bruce for his part looked at his friend with a deep frown. How did she expect him to pass the poor kids by and do nothing? “But they look sick Selina, they need help.” He tried.

“You have no idea who they are, it’s two in the morning, either they’re out here on purpose or someone’s looking for them.” Selina snapped back. She kept shooting quick glances at the dog-kids now, trying to read as much as she could from their appearances. No doubt another pair of nuts wandering around the city. The whole thing was giving her the creeps and she wanted to get away from them as soon as possible before something awful happened. “Leave them alone. Trust me, they’re just trouble.”

Another similarity both children shared was their bull-headed stubbornness. And as much as Selina pushed them to leave, Bruce pushed back just as much to stay. And completely ignoring his friends good, very reasonable advice, Bruce pulled his arm out of Selina’s grip and hurried across the street to catch up to the two strange kids.

“Bruce…” Selina said with a warning tone, but Bruce paid her no mind and kept going. Groaning and muttering several swears under her breath Selina followed him.

As he got closer Bruce realized he didn’t actually know what he was going to say to the strangers yet. But he had gotten too close and not saying nothing now seemed worse than saying anything at all so he called out to try and get their attention. “Hey! You two, wait!”

The dog-kids spun around, looking like a pair of deer caught in head lights. Both had immediately moved to hold the other and seemed ready to bolt. But since they didn’t recognize Bruce, never seeing the boy before in their lives, they stayed still allowing him and his friend to come closer.

“I-” Bruce stepped forwards and still felt unsure exactly what to say. He’d never thought himself to be antisocial or awkward but the more time he spent outside of his home with real people the more he was realizing his communication skills could be somewhat lacking. Especially with people his own age. But swallowing down his sudden nervousness he tried to act gentle around the clearly-spooked twins.

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but notice you two were out here all by yourselves. That, and your uh- curious attire. Are you ok?”

The pair looked quickly to one another before turning back to Bruce and Selina.

The girl spoke up, choosing her words slowly and unsure. “We think so. We’re just lost… Who are you?”

“I’m Bruce, and this is my friend-”

Refusing to let Bruce speak for her Selina stepped forwards and gave the kids a very pointed look. “I’m Selina. Now who are you?”

“Isadora and Duncan. Quagmire?” The girl, Isadora replied. “Please, could you tell us where we are?”

“On 87th. A few blocks south from Ridge.”

Isadora and Duncan looked at Selina blankly.

“You know, in the Narrows?”

The siblings still looked lost.

“… Gotham?”

At that some realization dawned on the two, but more so a sort of shocked horror. “Gotham?!” Duncan shouted. “I can’t believe him- He dragged us all the way back to Gotham!” There was surprise in his voice, but also a hurt tone, almost like betrayal. Isadora’s eyes were looking up to the rooftops as if she were trying to recognize the skylines for anything familiar.

“You two seriously didn’t know where you are?” Selina asked incredulously. But both Quagmires seemed too overwhelmed by this news to answer right away.

“He?” Bruce tried. He reached out and placed a hand on Duncan’s shoulder in the hopes of grounding the other boy. “Did someone leave you here? Alone?”

Duncan and Isadora both went to answer. But then they stumbled over half-finished sentences. For the life of them they could understand why, growing frustrated even. Sometimes after going through something truly awful it can suddenly become difficult speaking about it. This can stem from a wide variety of reasons; guilt, shame, confusion. But for the Quagmire triplets their sudden muteness on the matter came from shock. Once I myself was put through a terrible experience in my youth involving a group of unsavory individuals on a mountain range and yet whenever I tried to tell people for months afterwards I’d find myself speechless. They had been put through so much by Count Olaf, seen him do wicked things no child deserved to witness first hand. And for such a long period of time in isolation, only ever interacting with Olaf or his equally retched troupe. How on earth were they to explain everything that had happened?

“You said ‘back to Gotham’. You’ve been here before?” Selina asked frowning. At first she had been colder meeting the two, but now as she took in the haunted looks on their faces, their confusion in even being here and the tell-tale way they couldn’t seem to answer anything clearly, Selina knew for certain something was wrong.

That felt easier to answer, Duncan nodded. “Yes… We use to live here. Well, not here. Our house was just north of the city. Well, it use to be…” He throat felt like it was closing up when he thought about the fire and that seemed to be all he could say on the matter.

It didn’t seem like they could muster a strong explanation for anything else so Bruce decided to change the subject matter. “Ok. Do you two want a change of clothes at least? We know a place where you could get something warmer.”

Selina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, _I_ know a place. Find something a little less conspicuous.”

“Please? We would be very grateful.” Isadora replied giving a hateful glace to her filthy dog costume. It really was an ugly thing. And now that she’d been wearing it for so long it had become rather disgusting as well.

Selina gestured for them to all follow her. “I know a way that will get you the least weird looks. You don’t mind going underground, right?”

“No,” Duncan said, lying. After their poor experience with Count Olaf being pulled through small, dark places so often put him off of the idea. “As long as it’s not for a long period of time…”

“You two should be fine.” Bruce reassured them.

“Whatever, come on.” Selina seemed done with the conversation and started heading off, expecting the others to just follow her.

In a city like Gotham it is best to travel with a well-versed Gothamite. Someone who knows the maze of streets like the hallways in their own house. Someone who knows which people to trust and which to avoid. Someone who can make such an alien place seem more grounded in reality. Young Selina Kyle was all these and more. And following in her footsteps the Quagmires felt much more comfortable. While I feel tempted to, I can’t use the phrase “they had nothing to fear”. As lovely as it would sound it would also be false. Despite their new friends they still had an awful lot to fear. It’s always said “anything can happen” and the criminals of Gotham held up that ideal passionately. Not to mention the madman furiously hunting them down at that very moment. But at least for the time being they had substantially less to fear than they had before.

Following Selina and Bruce, they traveled across the less dangerous parts of the Narrows. Through the darkened streets and alleyways, not even moonlight to light their way. Hurrying across the street, doing their best to avoid impatient drivers who also seemed color-blind seeing their apathy towards traffic lights. And a few times when Isadora and Duncan were guided down into some underground tunnels they held each other’s hands in a vice grip until they made it out to the other side.

Most of the trip was done in silence. But a few times a conversation couldn’t help but happen. And the triplets and the other pair found one another to actually be rather interesting. In one particular discussion the Quagmires talked about their time at Prufrock. As miserable as it was it seemed to be the easiest thing to speak about so openly. They couldn’t talk about the kidnapping, but they could talk about mean teachers. And the Baudelaire siblings. How they became their friends and their saving grace in such a terrible place. Bruce seemed empathetic towards their plight, mentioning his own school with its problems and the bullying he’d dealt with. Selina just shook her head, calling them all brats and telling them they hadn’t seen anything until they went to public school.  But despite her own opinions she still got into their group debate on who would win in a fight: Tommy Elliot or Carmelita Spatz. In the end it was decided Ms. Spatz would surely win by shattering Eliot’s eardrums with her “singing” and then proceeding to tap dance on top of him.

Several little talks like this happened as they walked and for the Quagmires it seemed to bring a little more light to the dark, shadowy world around them.

Eventually they got to a secret hideaway for those left alone in the city; the Flea. There the triplets finally ditched their costumes and uniforms for clothes far more appropriate for hiding in a city. And afterwards the quartet stayed near the area. It was one of the few safe spots in Gotham’s Narrows and they were having such a nice time as a group. Both the Quagmires, and Selina, and Bruce were hesitant to leave it. But it would be morning soon. Selina was growing exhausted and would need to recoup. Bruce needed to go home and check in with his guardian, ensure them he was alright and that his day with Selina went fine.

And when the Quagmires fretted over what would happen to them Bruce offered to take them home with him. He claimed there was plenty of room in his house and his guardian was sure to be understanding to their plight. Selina promised to visit them at the house, though she refused to say when. And both promised to help the Quagmires whenever they were comfortable enough to explain how they got to Gotham, more importantly who had brought them here. As they left the Flea they discussed all of this.

I so desperately wished I could say they were able to leave with Bruce Wayne. I wish I could say they both went home to a beautiful mansion overlooking the woods, a fortress where they would always be safe and never deal with the likes of Count Olaf for the rest of their lives. Where a butler would protect them both, cook them meals made with love, and eventually adopt them both so they’d never fear being taken away by Mr. Poe or anyone else. Where they could both grow up alongside Bruce, learning more and more about the world and continuing honing their true passions like poetry and journalism. Where they could both spend many, many nights together with Bruce, Selina and maybe even more friends. Walking through such a dangerous city and yet able enjoying themselves just like they had this night. I wish I could say the Quagmires lived happily ever after. I wish I could say they were finally safe.

But I cannot. Because none of those things happened.

Instead as they left the Flea, still excitedly talking about what could await them in Bruce’s home, Olaf’s car drove directly in front of them. It blocked their path and a group of unsavory figures stepped out of the car.


	6. Chapter 5: A Dark Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a new chapter a month later! Things take an unfortunate turn with Bruce, Selina and the Quagmires. And we finally check back in with the Baudelaires. 
> 
> (FYI Sorry for any spelling or grammatical errors I may have missed. I do go through my stories here to fix any mistakes that I catch though.)

Selina and Bruce yelled for the Quagmires to run and hide while they assumed fighting positions and prepared for the oncoming attackers.

A multitude of violent actions occurred in the next instances which I cannot bare to write out in all their painful, sufferable details. I can say that Bruce and Selina did their best to fight off Olaf and his troupe and keep the Quagmires safe. Selina gained an enormous amount of fighting experience in her youth and was admirable in her skill and cunning. And while much newer to fighting and self-defense Bruce was proving to be a fast-learner and had a natural tenacity. However as talented as both were I cannot say that they succeeded completely.

Despite their bumbling appearances, Olaf and his crew were no slouches either. It can be very dangerous to underestimate one’s opponents. If you ever find yourself in a fight I would advise you to always be ready for anything. Even if your opponent seems lazy, or slow, or terrible at acting. For in their young, blossoming careers as street fighters this was the first terrible error both children made. That paired with only one of them being experienced with fighting such large groups lead to a much more brutal fight than either child had been prepared for.

And in the end Bruce Wayne received several bruises and cuts, the worst was a thin but deep-bruise that wrapped around his shoulder and began with a slight puncture in the skin. The Hook-handed man received an incredible amount of guilt for forgetting himself and trying to grab the boy. He as well as the rest of Olaf’s troupe received their fair share of bruises from the boy and girl and would be very sore from the rough fighting later. Poor Selina received a black eye from a hateful woman. And in turn that woman received a very nasty cut from Selina's knife which torn up her upper arm and the sleeve of her coat. But the worst, the absolute worst outcome from their fight, Count Olaf received the Quagmire triplets. Amidst the brawling Olaf had snuck around and snatched up the children when no one paid attention. Once again in his vile clutches he and the rest of his troupe sped off into the night with their hostages.

As their car disappeared down the street, Bruce and Selina could hear the Quagmires desperately calling out for help. It was a sorrowful sound that would haunt both children as they went their separate ways. To their separate homes to care for their newest wounds, whether it be by themselves or with the help of a worried butler. And even as they went to bed in the early morning to try and catch up on a few hours of rest, they would still hear the poor, poor Quagmires screaming as they were pulled into Olaf’s car by their hair. It invaded their dreams.

This can often happen to those who experience such unpleasant things. Dreams are supposed to be an exercise for the brain to practice reacting to the waking world. To cope with new, strange sensations. But after experiencing something disturbing or traumatic, these sensations too may begin influencing one’s dreams. But instead of helping one cope they can instead make things all the more worse.

It was alarmingly similar to some of the ailments faced by the Baudelaire children. Who while having a full-night’s rest still woke up exhausted. None of the Baudelaire children slept well, and their memories of the Quagmires made sleeping even worse.

But still as the morning sun rose, the Baudelaire children felt themselves waking up on their own despite the fact that they couldn’t see it in the Squalor’s pratically pitch-black apartment.

Pealing back the periwinkle bedsheets Violet had no hope of actually seeing, she gingerly got out of her bed and padded towards the wall she thought had a window. Sure enough she felt thick curtains there and pulled them open just a crack to see the outside world. Day was just beginning to break over Gotham City. Klaus and Sunny soon followed their sister, ready to see some light after so much time in the dark. And while the wide canopy of trees blocked this out the children could make out flecks of pink and orange that made it through the shadows and dark.

Through the break in the curtains a single stripe of pale light entered the children’s bedrooms, giving them the tiniest glimpse of what their newest home looked like. The furniture seemed expensive. But unlike the fine wooden tables and chairs the Baudelaire children could recall from their old home, these were all made from an all-white material inlaid with silver paint that gleamed. And matching the beds was a periwinkle rug over top cold black and white tiles.

“Chic!” Sunny said, looking about the room. This most likely meant “Nice enough, though the overdone color scheme leaves something to be desired.”

This made Violet and Klaus both smile, “Don’t worry Sunny, I guess since it will be so dark in here we won’t even see the color scheme.” Klaus said a little snidely.

“And besides, after our stay in the _orphan shack_ I don’t think we’re in a position to complain.” Violet added. Which made the three of them laugh while remembering their horrendous accommodations at Prufrock Prep.

“You’re right, white and very pale purple do make a better pair than neon pink and putrid green.” Klaus said in agreement, still chuckling a little.

Sunny nodded and shouted “No Crabs!”

Just as the children’s eyes were beginning to adjust to the light, they could hear a pair of feet walking briskly down the hall towards their door. They didn’t know any of the rules Jerome and Esmé Squalor might want them to follow but the Baudelaires didn’t think they would appreciate seeing light when they had explained when they first met that any sort of light was currently “out” as in “out of style”. So with only moments to spare the children hurried to close the curtains and plunge the room back into fashionable near-darkness before their new guardian came in.

“Good Morning!” The children immediately recognized the voice of Jerome, he seemed to be in a chipper mood if his voice was anything to go by. “I was just about to wake you three when I heard you were already up. I must say, you children certainly are self-sufficient.”

Violet answered Jerome for herself and her siblings. “Good morning Jerome, and thank you.”

Living in a lumber mill and a private school with little accommodations had in turn made the children more self-sufficient as Mr. Squalor put it. Though Violet was unsure how to even begin bringing such subjects up to a man they had just met, and still hadn’t seen.

They heard Jerome clap his hands and he continued speaking. “Well, we musn’t dilly-dally! You three have to get ready for school after all, can’t have you be late on your first day.”

“School?” Klaus asked surprised. They had only just arrived in Gotham last night.

“Yes. As soon as I heard you were coming under our care, Esmé and I went ahead and enrolled you!” Jerome said proudly. “It wasn’t easy, especially since the next semester has already begun. But Esmé and I were able to get you children into three of the finest schools in Gotham. I’m going to drop you all off before going to work.”

While Jerome sounded elated, the Baudelairs had become anything but.

“We’ll be attending separate schools?” Violet said, impulsively she looked over to where Klaus and Sunny were though she couldn’t see them. After the fire, the three children had never been separated in such a manner. At least while Sunny was caged of Klaus was hypnotized they were still nearby. Able to see one another. Now they would be gone for all the long hours in the day.

Jerome must have heard the disappointment in Violets voice as his own became a little more somber. “I’m sorry children. There was a public middle school that had invited you Violet, and your brother. And there was a pre-k nearby. But my dear Esmé didn’t think it would be… appropriate.”

And just like that his voice grew happier again. “I promise you it will be ok. Think of it this way, being on your own you’ll be able to have your own experiences, spread your wings! And it’s not like you’ll be apart for long. Sunny, your pre-k gets out at twelve-thirty. And Violet, Klaus, your school day ends at three’o’clock.”

While a nice sentiment it did little to make Violet, Klaus or Sunny feel better. If they were separated like this who knew what horrible things could happen to them? What if some dastardly villain went from school to school and plucked them up one by one? But it didn’t seem as like the children could do anything about it. They had been enrolled without their knowledge or permission, regardless of Jerome’s kind intentions, and were now being expected to go along with what their new guardian wished. And Mr. Poe’s warning of putting on a good impression still lingered in their heads. So they simply said nothing and kept their thoughts to themselves. It was something quickly becoming for a habit for the youngsters.

“It will only be a few hours, having some time alone could even be good for you three. But your classes begin at eight on the dot so you all have to hurry and get ready. And I was hoping to treat you all to breakfast before you go to school so we’ll have to leave a little earlier!”

With that, Jerome explained where their closets and the bathrooms were. He also handed them several flash lights to help them navigate the apartment flat. Though they were warned to only use the light sparingly and to not to let Esmé know they had any sources of light, nor were they allowed to take the flash lights with them into the showers or near any sinks.

Getting ready in the dark sounds simple enough in theory. However in actual practice it can be a challenging experience. For one accustomed to light and clear sight it can be jarring suddenly having to go without. I’m not entirely sure how the Baudelaires themselves faired but I know personally the most difficult part of getting ready in almost complete darkness was trying to take a shower. Not knowing which bottle of shampoo or conditioner was which, struggling to find slippery soap on the ground, knowing that if you trip there’s no knowing how you’ll get back up and the shock of feeling a flood of shower water suddenly hit you without expecting it. Just thinking about it now puts me on edge.

But like the Baudelaires seem to always do, they made do, took on the challenge. And after some difficulty all three children were clean, their teeth and hair brushed, and dressed in what they assumed were their school uniforms. Ready for their first day at new schools in a new city.

Walking with Jerome out the front door of the Squalor’s apartment the children were surprised to find the hallways lit. It was a weak light that made the walls and floor a brownish-gold, but still a far-cry from the dark, dark apartment they were just in.

“I was able to make a deal with the other tenants so we can get down to the first floor safely. Just as long as we turn off the lights again as soon as we leave.” Jerome explained.

Looking down they could finally see what they were wearing as well. Violet and Klaus’s clothes seemed like standard black and white school-uniforms. Sunny actually wasn’t wearing a uniform at all rather, a nice black dress and matching bow in her curly hair. And when they looked closer they realized there were thin silver lines along their black clothes.

“Cienkie linie?” Sunny murmured. Poking at her dress.

“Huh?” Jerome asked.

Klaus was quick to translate for her. “What my sister means to ask is, why are there tiny, thin lines on our uniforms?”

“Oh, those are pinstripes. Very, fashionable right now. Esmé says no one who considers themselves an elite would be caught dead without pinstripes this fashion season. She was able to persuade your schools to modify their uniforms so you will still be fashionable.”

“And your wi- Esmé isn’t coming?” Klaus asked, being able to see again he’d immediately noted the woman’s disappearance. All morning in fact the more he thought about it.

“She doesn’t wake up until much later in the day. Poor dear, she seemed under the weather too so she’ll be staying home. Not to worry though, after a little more rest she assured me she’ll be fine!” Jerome continued to explain until they came to the spiraling staircase. As the children began the long walk down Jerome stopped them. “Wait, I was thinking, why don’t we all ride along the banister? It’s much faster.”

The children were unsure about that. Sunny was too young to remember but Violet and Klaus had been taught at a very young age at the Baudelaire manor to never ride along the banisters of any set of stairs.

But Jerome assured them that it would be fine to do so here at their apartment complex. He also mentioned it had been his favorite thing to do as a boy in his family’s home. And so with their Guardian’s reassurance the children all sat on the rails along the banister and slid down the spiraling staircase. And despite the children’s growing anxieties for their day, they all admitted to themselves that riding the staircase down was a lot of fun. It was a thrilling rush and by the time they came to the ground floor the children found themselves dizzy but giggling along with Jerome. And off they went into the city of Gotham, waving good-bye to the quiet doorman as they passed by.

The café by the apartments Jerome originally intended to take them to appeared to be closed during morning, much to his disappointment. So instead Jerome made a stop at a bakery along the way to Sunny’s prestigious pre-k academy for them to pick up 3 apple Danishes and a whole raw apple for Sunny. Originally Jerome tried to order a small doughnut for her but Violet and Klaus quickly explained that Sunny didn’t like the texture of puffy pastries or cake and would prefer something hard for her teeth. Jerome, while confused still seemed accepting and was happy to accommodate the youngest Baudelaire.

Whether for better or worse the Baudelaires quickly came to realize that Jerome truly did care. He made them wear strange clothes and he was forcing them to go to separate schools but he wasn't doing it to be mean. Klaus especially as well as his sisters all had their doubts about Jerome’s character when they first met him. They feared he would use them for their money or as some sort of labor, or that he would simply be cruel and malicious. But the better they had come to know the man throughout the morning the more comfortable they felt around him. He seemed meek at times, and when he was unsure he’d act more aloof, but they realized he truly wanted to be their guardian. He meant well.

And while there were many thing the Baudelaires would be wrong in assuming, I can say they were right at least about Jerome Squalor.


	7. Chapter 6: A Rainy Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story starts to finally pick up lol! Personally I'm really excited for the next chapter when all these separate parties begin to really interact! (I might have been a little over-enthusiastic about uploading this and may have to go through later and do some editing. Also I recently edited the story summery a little since I've changed the story outline, but that's nothing to worry about!)
> 
> Anyways I hope you all enjoy!

I’m sure at least once in your life a parent, teacher or disgruntled peer has told you not to make assumptions. Perhaps they’ve even used a phrase involving the risk of both of you transforming into donkeys.  And while the phrase is ridiculous the message within it rings true.

When you make assumptions you make foolish decisions.

And while it can be humiliating to be horribly wrong none of us can fully escape from making assumptions. Not even the Baudelaires, resourceful and cunning as they were. Because Violet and Klaus were going to separate schools despite both being middle-school aged the children assumed that these schools would follow some sexist policies in which only certain genders could enroll. However after Sunny was dropped off at her Pre-School, Klaus was then dropped off at Anders Preparatory Academy. And the older siblings were filled with confusion and embarrassment at their assumptions when they saw all the students milling about the elegant school yard.

Anders Preparatory Academy was a Coed school. Or simply, they catered to students of many genders.

At Jerome’s insistence, Klaus shyly got out of the car and said goodbye to his guardian and older sister. Facing a new school entirely by himself.

As they drove away, Violet tried to contain herself despite how upset she felt. She didn’t want to give her guardian the wrong impression. “Mr. Squalor?”

Jerome turned to her with a smile. “It’s just Jerome, is something wrong dear?”

Violet choose her words carefully. “Jerome? I couldn’t help but notice Anders Preparatory Academy was a Coed school.”

“Ah, yes. The school you’ll be attending is as well.”

“But I was wondering, why not simply have Klaus and I attend just one school?”

Jerome shook his head slightly. “Well, my lovely rose, Esmé and I had a very difficult time finding a schools of… our prestige with openings at this time of year.”

As he continued he looked back to where Klaus was awkwardly making his way through the entrance and back towards Violet. “I do hope your brother and sister have a nice first day, hopefully they can make some friends who share their interests.”

“Klaus and I use to be very social at our old school. He was a part of almost every club, and always liked bringing friends over to see our family’s library.”  As Violet spoke there was a fondness in her voice recalling their childhood. It felt like so long ago even though it was only a few years. Everything had changed so quickly. The small smile on her face fell away though thinking about how different Klaus and everything else in her life had become. “That was... before, I guess.”

Jerome nodded solemnly but kept his eyes on the road. “Your parents were some of my dearest friends. It broke my heart when I heard of their passing. And I’m sure it has been very difficult for you and your siblings.”

The word difficult didn’t quite capture the range of emotions Violet had dealt with and the past seasons of her life. But she chose to only quietly reply. “It has.”

For a few more moments they drove in silence. Only hearing the chaotic song that was Gotham traffic just outside their car. But inside it was awkwardly still. It made Violet feel uneasy.

Their quiet drive continued until the tall stone towers of Gotham Academy came into view. It was radically different from the pristine pillars and white-washed walls of Anders Prep. This school was centuries older.  Looming over them much like the rest of the city did, embracing the true Gotham aesthetic of grimness and gloom.

As he approached the school drop-off Jerome built up the courage to speak again. Turning to her as the car came to a stop next to the side walk.

“Violet? I don’t expect everything to feel fine at a moment’s notice… But I hope you know that my only wish is to give you and your siblings the safety and happiness you deserve after everything you’ve been through.”

His words were unsure, but kind. And even if delayed Violet found her holding his words close to her heart. “Thank you, Jerome. It really means a lot to me. To my brother and sister as well.” She said sincerely, before opening the car door and stepping out with her pinstriped backpack.

“It’s my pleasure. And I hope you have an enjoyable day at school!” Jerome had a sad look in his eye watching her go. Then he chuckled and shook his head. “I guess I’ll have to get use to saying that three times every morning!”

Violet waved to him as he drove away. Then she walked into Gotham Academy. Alone. Trying to hold on to Jerome’s kind words.

And so each of the Baudelaires went to their separate schools hoping they would at least be better then what they had gone through at Prufrock Prep. Though they each braced themselves for mean students, mean teachers and the possible appearance of Count Olaf.

What the children experienced however was rather different than the assumptions they made earlier that morning.

While none of the Baudelaires found their first day of school to be exceptionally good, they also couldn’t say their day had been disastrous either. The truth was despite being in many situations that made them uncomfortable and upset each of the Baudelaires could agree that their first day of school in Gotham was far more enjoyable than their entire stay at Prufrock. And for the first time in a while the children found themselves excited to return to school the next day.

Sunny had her first experience being in school. Despite being a full year younger than any other toddler in the room she held her own while singing nursery rhymes and identifying shapes. She actually found their curriculum to be very easy. Too easy in fact. Many times throughout the day she actually felt bored. But when lunch time came everyone admired how she took the plain snacks they were given and made something all by herself. Celery sticks decorated with peanut butter and raisins. After lunch the children were allowed to play outside when a light drizzle suddenly turned into a complete downpour. And though the adults panicked Sunny and her peers were at an age where rain was something fun and they all frolicked through the puddles that formed before being called back in to dry off. By the end of her school day she found herself excited to come back again tomorrow to sit with the children she thought might become her friends and show off another fun lunch and playtime.

Violet was much more experienced in schools and socializing than her baby sister and was better prepared for her first day at one of Gotham’s most historic schools. However as one gets older, adults and children alike can feel more compelled to follow social trends no matter how ridiculous they are. Despite all her teachers and peers treating her kindly Violet couldn’t help but feel like an object being gawked-at because of her physical beauty and more so over the fact she had a fashionable pinstriped uniform and was an orphan.

However by the end of the day she made the acquaintance of two people who didn’t seem to view her as a trend. A meek but imaginative young girl in named Patience Phillips who loved to draw and had a fascination with ancient history. And a boy with anger issues but a good heart named Harvey Dent. He was attending the school on a scholarship and knew how it felt to be patronized by rest of the school like Violet did. The trio ended up meeting for lunch. They'd hoped to eat their lunch in the peace of the school gardens but it was raining heavily that afternoon so they had no choice but to eat inside. Though the surroundings weren't the most desirable they ended up still having a wonderful conversation about their interests and concerns. And when she confided to them that she actually was friends with the still-missing Quagmire triplets they treated her with compassion rather than speculating about rumors and gossip like so many of her peers had. By the end of the day Violet found herself feeling excited at seeing her new friends again, plus possibly having lunch outside surrounded by flowers and trees tomorrow.

As for Klaus, alone at Anders Preparatory Academy without either of his sisters, he found his classes enjoyable. But a few individuals within them turned out to be much more trouble. While the Gotham Academy students seemed to put Violet on a pedestal, some of students at Anders Prep took one look at Klaus’s pinstriped blazer and made it their goal to knock him down. More often mentally then physically if the constant taunts and name-calling was anything to go by. Perhaps they acted out on jealousy, or maybe some other internalized insecurities than manifested in such aggressive behavior. I’d have to talk to these students personally to know for sure. But whatever the reason, Klaus Baudelaire’s first day of school began miserably thanks to them all.

By the time lunch came, Klaus couldn’t stand the idea of being stuck in a cafeteria with limited adults. Especially when he found out he would be sharing his lunch period with one of the boys who was giving him the most trouble, Tommy Eliot. So after he was given a lunch worthy of such a staggering tuition, Klaus ducked out of the cafeteria and searched through the school for his sanctuary.

As a child Klaus had always found reprieve in books, spending hours at a time in his family’s library. And even with each of his guardians he and his siblings had been able to find resources and comfort in different libraries. So timidly he opened the door to the Anders Prep library (which was thankfully opened for longer than 10 minutes a day).

Now as anyone who’s dealt with orderly and passionate librarians knows, bringing food and drink into a library is very strongly frowned upon. After all, there is always the risk that you might spill pasta sauce or wasabi or anything else messy onto a book and ruin its pages. But then again, anyone who’s known kind and noble librarians knows, they will do anything to help and care for the children who come into their spaces looking for inspiration or sanctuary. The librarian of Anders Prep had spent years opening their doors to children who couldn’t bear to sit in the chaotic cafeteria. As long as the students promised to keep their food on the tables at the edge of the library and away from the books, they were more than welcome to spend their lunch period within the fortress of book cases.

Klaus upon hearing this from the orderly but kind librarian agreed readily. And instead of eating his lunch while ducking from spit-balls and rude jeers, he ate with the smell of old books in his nose, the sound of rain softly hitting the windows in his ears and the tranquility that can come from a calm library making him feel safe for the first time that day.

He wasn’t the only student hiding in the library. There were a few other students eating their lunches, wandering through the bookshelves, or sitting down in a chair with a book. None of them seemed very keen on talking to Klaus so he decided to keep his distance. But as he gazed to one of the boys in the back corner of the room, he couldn’t help but notice them. Particularly the latest issue of the Daily Punctilio they had with them. Nothing about that was particularly odd, though the newspaper was horribly written and published. What was odd however was how the boy was highlighting different names, making notes along the newspaper margins and had circled the black and white photographs on the front page. If Klaus wasn’t mistaken the boy was annotating the article. And as he got closer he recognized the pictures of the Quagmire triplets under the title _“WEALTHY ORPHANED TWINS STILL MISSING!!!”_

“Can I help you?” The boy asked in a tired, grumpy voice, not even looking up towards Klaus.

He silently cursed himself. Between the Baudelaire children Violet had always been better at things like sneaking and eavesdropping. And though he tried he was caught much more often. Having no other choice he continued to walk towards the boy and stumbled through an apology. “I- Well- Look, I’m sorry but I couldn’t help but notice your copy of the newspaper. And- I just wanted to let you know the Daily Punctilio isn’t the most reliable news source. The Quagmires are actually triplets, not twins.”

“I know. But none of the papers in Gotham are covering the story yet.” The boy replied. He stopped making annotations and looked up at Klaus incredulously. He had a pale face and purple bags under his eyes that were hard not to notice. “How do you know that?”

Klaus wasn’t quite sure what to say at first. But in the end he decided to stick to his morals and was honest. “I knew them when they were attending Prufrock Preparatory School. We were all very good friends.”

At that the other boy’s eyes soften and he seemed a little guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was assuming the worst.” He seemed lost and gestured awkwardly to the table. “I haven’t seen you in school here before. Uh, would you like to sit?”

Klaus looked to the seat the boy was offering him and accepted the small peace offering. “It’s alright. I just began attending Anders today. I’m Klaus Baudelaire.”

“Bruce Wayne.” Bruce said with a small smile, shaking hands with Klaus. “I think I recognize your name. I saw it a couple times in the paper.”

He gestured down further in the article where he and Violet were misquoted saying “ _We studied all night for an exam! By morning we were so tired we thought Coach Genghis was Count Olaf!”_

Klaus scoffed at the paper. “There’s another inaccuracy. Neither my sister nor I ever said that.” He said pointing to the quote.

Bruce crossed it out but made a point to highlight Klaus and Violet’s names. “I know this isn’t the most reliable, but is it true? What happened to Isadora and Duncan?”

Klaus couldn’t bring himself to say it and nodded grimly.

“It’s horrible...” Bruce said in a sad, angry voice.

“I agree… they don’t deserve anything that’s happened to them.” he wanted to say more but Klaus subconsciously stopped himself. Several times today he’d begun speaking emotionally about the Quagmires only to be mocked and called cruel names.

But as he looked at Bruce's face he saw none of the malice so many other students had shown him. Timidly, he began recounting his experience at Prufrock. Leaving out no foul details of Nero's tyranny or Olaf's wickedness. Bruce was quiet the entire time, only nodding a few times. And while he kept his face neutral Klaus saw his eyes spark a few times as he mentioned experiences with the Quagmires. Bruce now knew his story, and as he looked over Bruce’s annotated newspaper one concern did come to his mind. “But how do you know all these things about the Quagmires triplets?”

The rain outside grew louder, now pounding off the roof and rattling the windows. Bruce looked around nervously to the librarian and the other students before turning back to Klaus.

“I met Duncan and Isadora Quagmire. Last night.”

Klaus was surprised but he had his suspicions. “Are you sure it was them?”

“I’m absolutely certain. They actually told me about Prufrock, as well as you and your family.”

“But… how?”

Bruce answered in a hushed tone. “I was out, with a friend, and we ran into them. We tried to help them… I was about to bring them both home with me when a whole car of people showed up. We got into a fight and they took them away.”

“Did one of them have a single unibrow and a tattoo on his ankle?” Klaus asked rapidly.

“I’m not sure. It was very dark so I didn’t have the best vantage point. But I do know one of the men had hooks for hands, I got into a fight with him. And I heard two older woman with identical voices. There were others too."

Klaus was shocked. It sounded like Count Olaf’s miserable troupe was right here in Gotham. And the Quagmires were here too! But that also meant Count Olaf was in Gotham. Waiting to strike. “Bruce, you have to tell me everything you know!”

Bruce was about to answer when the bell rang and the lunch period was over. Many of the students seemed disappointed that lunch was over but Bruce and Klaus were crest-fallen.

Both got up to leave when Bruce grabbed his arm. “If you could, please come to my house tonight. We can talk about everything then. I promise.”

“That sounds completely reasonable.” Klaus replied. Innocent. “Where do you live?”

“Wayne manor. It’s outside of town, here let me give you the address.” Bruce hurried to scribble down his address. But the Librarian came over and ushered the boys out of their library to attend their next classes.

Before disappearing completely into the crowed hall, Bruce managed to give Klaus a ripped off piece of the newspaper. His name, address and phone number written as neatly as one could manage while being heckled by a librarian.

Klaus held on to the paper, nervously going through the rest of his classes and just wishing for the day to end so he could tell Violet and Sunny everything that happened.

And even though he was planning on seeing Bruce that night with his sisters. Klaus found himself excited to return to school tomorrow knowing now he’d have one possible friend there in the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know what you’re probably thinking? Why is Violet befriending retconned Harvey Dent and the chick from the horrible Catwoman film? And to put it simply, I wanted too lol! I like Harvey’s character but I wanted to put in a version I feel could bond with the Bruce like he does in the comics and animated series. As for Patience, well I always felt bad for her. She seemed like an interesting character that could have been really cool if she had been in the hands of better writers and directors. (I always wondered what she’d be like as a foil to Selina’s Catwoman). So for now they both get a shout-out and, if I continue this series beyond The Ersatz Elevator they’ll definitely play bigger roles!


	8. Chapter 7: A Bright Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from the dead finally! I just want to say thank you to everyone continuing to read and support this story! It really means a lot to me!
> 
> Just a heads up, I think the chapters are going to continue getting longer. Originally I was going to try and replicate the books with 13 chapters, 2500-2800 each, w/ a letter to the editor at the end. But with everything I have planned I don’t think a 2500 word count is gonna cut it per chapter. So I’m plan on keeping the 13 chapter + additional letters set-up, but from here on out the chapters are gonna get longer.
> 
> Anyways hope you enjoy!

At the end of the school day the light rain that the Baudelaires had heard all throughout their classes finally died down. And as they each returned to Jerome’s car during drop-off the sky was still a dark, saturated grey with no sunshine in sight. Once Violet hurried across the school courtyard and piled into the car next to her siblings they all breathed a sigh of relief knowing they’d all survived their first day of school separated.

“How was your first day children?” Jerome asked from the driver’s seat, smiling earnestly. “Not as bad as you thought this morning?”

While the children didn’t care for Jerome’s ever-so-slight condescending tone they knew he’d actually been right. Violet nodded. “No, it wasn’t. I even made some new friends today.”

“Introver!” Sunny shouted in reply. This would most likely mean ‘Though I didn’t make any friends, my classmates seemed nice enough. And I found my school day to be adequate.’

“I’m sorry to hear that you didn’t make any friends yet.” Klaus said softly to his sister. “Perhaps after a few days, you may get to know some of your peers better.”

“And what about your day Klaus?” Jerome asked, sparing the boy a quick glance in his review mirror. “Were you able to make any friends?”

Klaus looked between his sisters and most recent Guardian with disappointment. He’d been hoping to speak to his siblings in private before bringing it up with Jerome and his wife. But now that Jerome mentioned it, and especially seeming so earnest on the matter, he felt like he no longer had a choice.

“I was able to make one friend actually. His name is Bruce. We met in the library during our lunch break, and he seemed very… genuine. He was interested in meeting us and wanted to know if my sisters and I would like to have dinner at his house tonight.”

Jerome seemed elated at first. “I’m so happy! And you know they say having one true friend is better than a having hundred false.” But he made a small hum before continuing, and his toned changed. “As for tonight, I was hoping we could share our first dinner together, you three, myself and my darling Esmé… Of course we ought to get her input on the matter first before coming to any final decisions shouldn’t we?”

“That does seem fair.” Klaus replied with a sigh. He knew having a dinner with his new guardians would be important but at the moment having dinner with a new friend who had valuable information on the Quagmires seemed tremendously more important. He could only hope that Mrs. Esmé Squalor would be on his side.

Despite spending nearly a full day in Gotham City, the Baudelaires had yet to truly meet their other guardian. They had heard her voice the night before, but they knew nothing about her, they didn’t even know what she looked like. And neither Klaus, nor his sisters were looking forwards to another evening stumbling around the Penthouse trying not to trip over furniture with people who insisted on living in near-complete darkness.

However the Baudelaires and Mr. Squalor were quite surprised to find their apartment complex glowing with radiant light as they returned back.

“Dark is out. Light is in.” The doorman replied simply when he saw everyone enter the lobby with confused faces.

Jerome smiled with some relief. “Oh good! I was waiting for light to come back into fashion. Do you know if elevators-”

“Elevators are still out.”

“Very well then.” Jerome quickly turned from the curt doorman to the Baudelaire children, “Looks like we’ll be taking the stairs again. I do hope you don’t mind.”

The Baudelaires found the climb up the staircase to be tedious and tiresome. But the decided to say nothing and simply nodded, following Jerome up the long winding staircase. At least now the there was more than enough light to guide their way.

As they went up each floor seemed brighter and brighter. By the time they reached the penthouse it was nearly headache-inducing. Pushing the doors opened, they entered the Squalor residence and finally met Mrs. Esmé Squalor face-to-face.

She was a regal and poised woman, or simply she held herself in a manner that demanded respect and awe. She was also radiant. So much so, the children had some trouble looking directly at her due to her choice of dress covered in reflective mirrors and blinking gold lights.

“Good evening, orphans.” She announced from the top of a gilded staircase.

“But my darling, it’s still technically the late-afternoon.” Jerome replied.

Esmé glared at her husband and continued to speak as she flounced down the staircase. With each step she took her whole dress would bounce sending light shining out in every direction. “I am Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor. The city’s six most important financial advisor. As well as one of Gotham’s leading ladies in fashion. I doubt there’s even an inch of this town that hasn’t seen a taste of my influence.” She replied with a smirk.

At the bottom of the stairs Esmé paused to look at the children, giving them a sparkling white smile. “I know it must be daunting to be adopted by someone as powerful and beautiful as myself. But I promise you orphans, your lives are about to change. You will be introduced to all things _in_ in Gotham City! The parties, the galas, the boutiques, the art! We’ll show it all to you tonight starting with dinner at the most fabulously _in_ restaurant!”

“Well my rose, the children were wondering-” Jerome started.

Esmé raised a sparkling hand. “Don’t interrupt dear.”

“Actually,” Klaus pushed. “We were wondering if we could have dinner tonight with my friend.”

Esmé scoffed. “I doubt this little friend of yours would hold a candle to what I have planned, orphan. Who is this little friend?”

With the literally-glowing woman staring him down Klaus felt some of his stubbornness deflate. “I met him at school today, he seemed really nice and we wanted to finish a conversation we started at lunch. His name is Bruce Wayne and he even gave me the adr-”

“Bruce Wayne?” Esmé asked. Her condescending look vanished as soon as it came before breaking out into a huge grin. “BRUCE WAYNE!?!?”

“Wait, who’s Bruce Wayne?” Violet asked nervously.

Esmé squealed and her brilliantly bright dress starting bouncing again. Jerome answered for her. “He’s the sole heir to Wayne Enterprise. Poor boy’s parents passed away some time ago.”

“He’s the reason orphans are in! He’s a little icon! He’s in the papers almost every other week!” She exclaimed with another happy noise. “Imagine, my children being best mates with the prince of Gotham! Orphans, you MUST go to dinner with him!”

“But what about the dinner we planned?” Jerome asked, clearly disappointed.

“Dinner can wait! We can bump that to tomorrow or next week or whatever! You must go tonight!”

Esmé left no room open to argue and much to Jerome’s disappointment, but the Baudelaire’s relief, Esmé dragged them all downstairs and into her personal limo to drive through the city to Bruce Wayne’s house.

They left the sparkling Diamond District behind, driving north until they’d practically left Gotham altogether. Until finally just after dusk they came upon a giant estate surrounded by a tall stone wall. Klaus couldn’t help but think of ancient castles built to keep out invaders. Esmé seemed absolutely giddy as they got closer and bragged to the children about the wonderful parties Bruce’s parents use to hold before their unfortunate demise.

After passing through an iron gate, the Squalor’s limo drove along a winding road until they finally arrived at Wayne Manor.

Esmé practically pushed the children out of the car as soon as it came to a stop. And when the Baudelaires asked if she or Jerome would like to come in she laughed out-loud.

“Oh children, this isn’t a playdate for toddlers! I’m sure mature, grown-up orphans like yourselves can handle one simple dinner without chaperones.”

Jerome didn’t seem to agree but chose not to argue with his wife. “Uh, well… Alright, well you three have fun! We’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours, but if you need anything just call us. I believe you have out numbers-”

“They’ll be fine!” Esmé chided lightly before turning to the children. “But do be on your best behavior. It’s not every night ordinary orphans like yourself have dinner with the _innest_ orphan in the entire city! This could be a good thing for all of us, so be sure to make a good first impression!”

With that she pulled the door shut and the limo drove off, leaving them behind at the front doors of Wayne Manor. Alone.

“So,” Violet began as the children walked slowly to the giant front doors. “Your new friend is the most popular orphan in Gotham?”

“I guess. But he never mentioned he was so famous… or an orphan for that matter.” Klaus replied.

“Larnl Hari!” Sunny exclaimed, gesturing to the giant estate.

Violet laughed a little despite being nervous. “That is true, it seems like ever since we were adopted by the Squalors we’ve been making the acquaintance of people in high places.”

“Both literally and figurative.” Klaus added with a small chuckle. But he grew more serious as he turned away from Wayne Manor to face his sisters. "I'm really sorry I had to bring us here so last minute. I wanted to let you know sooner, when I met Bruce today he told me he had information on the Quagmires!"

Both girls seemed surprised. "Are you sure? He may have been lying."

"He seemed honest. And he knew us from their stories about Prufrock." Klaus answered. 

With that, they continued walking to the front doors. Violet mused quietly as the doors came within reach. "It seems rather odd, we're about to meet another person our age from a wealthy family, who lost his parents recently. And all to discuss our mutual friends who share a similar fate."

"It is odd..." Klaus agreed.

Feeling a mix of confusion over their circumstance but hope in making a new colleague and friend, Klaus rang the doorbell and began to wait. Only for the door to be opened almost instantly and the Baudelaires came face to face with an older gentleman.

He wore a nice, thankfully not-pinstriped, pair of slacks and vest as well as a button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled back as if he’d just stopped working to answer the door. He gave them a polite smile while his eyes scanned carefully over the Baudelaire’s faces.

“Good evening. I saw you three coming up the drive way. I believe you’re here to see Bruce?”

“Yes, we are.” Violet answered. “How do you do?”

“Well enough, I suppose. Given the circumstances. But come on, let’s get you out of the cold.” The man ushered the three in before pulling the doors shut behind him. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce’s… Bruce’s guardian.”

Violet went on to introduce the three of them. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Pennyworth. I’m Violet Baudelaire and these are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny.”

“Bruce and I are attending Anders Prep in the same class.” Klaus added.

“He did mention that at least.” Mr. Pennyworth replied with hum. “You can all follow me. Last I saw him, Bruce was in the study.”

As they walked through the quiet manor, the Baudelaires noticed several things. First and foremost was its size and lavishness. Long hallways seemed to stretch on, gilded in red and gold and held together by rich dark wood. It seemed fitting enough that the boy Esmé had called “Prince of Gotham” would live in a royal palace. However despite the glamor, there was something more sincere in Wayne Manor compared to the fabulous home of the Squalors. Something softer. Something that made the Baudelaires’ hearts ache. Reminding them of their own home, now left to smoldering ashes.

After a short walk, Mr. Pennyworth came to a door, knocking lightly before opening it. There they found Bruce Wayne sitting next to a girl they didn’t recognize in a cozy-looking study, newspapers and notes were scattered across a table, the walls were lined with bookshelves, and a fire crackled in the fireplace.

Bruce immediately stood, startled by the sudden guests while the girl didn’t pay them much mind. “Oh! Uh, hello. I was hoping you would be able to make it.”

“Hi Bruce, I hope we’re not too late.” Klaus greeted.

“One of our guardians needed some persuading.” Violet added.

Bruce smiled. “I’m happy they could be reasoned with. And I take it you’re Violet?”

“That would be correct.” Violet said before holding her baby sister a little closer to Bruce. “And this is Sunny.”

“Bah Mah!” Sunny babbled with a little wave.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both.” Bruce said sincerely. “I just wish it could have been under different circumstances.”

“Well now that you're all are introduced I’ll be heading back to the kitchen. After all, there’s only so much I can do when _certain people_ spring a surprise dinner for five on me without thinking.” Mr. Pennyworth replied, pointedly looking at Bruce. “But I digress, dinner will be ready in half an hour.”

“Thank you Alfred.” Bruce replied sheepishly as his guardian left the children to their own devices. The Baudelaires all sat down and tried to get comfortable.

Now alone the strange girl kicked her feet back and finally acknowledged them. “So, you guys are the amazing Baudelaires Dora and D talked about.”

Violet nodded, a little uncomfortable with how familiar this stranger seemed with her, her family and her friends. “Yes. And you are?”

“Selina.” Selina replied. “Me and Bruce ran into your friends last night. They seemed nice.”

“They are. So what exactly can you tell us about last night?” Klaus asked.

Selina turned to Bruce before sighing and recounted everything she could recall of their misadventures with the Quagmires, with a couple interjections from Bruce when there was additional details he could provide. As they spoke the Baudelaires slowly put together an idea of what could have possibly happened.

“So Count Olaf is here in Gotham.” Klaus said.

“And he’s decided to bring the Quagmires with him.” Violet continued, tying her hair back to try and focus better on the problems at hand.

“They had managed to escape, and ran into you two.” Klaus added pointing to Bruce and Selina.

“But Olaf managed to track them down and re-kidnap them.” Violet finished grimly. “But why bring them here?”

“Hos-tah!” Sunny shouted, most likely meaning ‘Perhaps he’s trying to blackmail us into complying with him? Like the time he put me in a bird cage?’

Klaus could feel himself growing mad. “Why haven’t the police or anyone else done anything to stop this!? And why hasn’t anyone in Gotham been talking about this? It seems like it’s all the Daily Punctillio wants to talk about!”

“This is Gotham city, kids go missing every day.” Selina replied bluntly. And when Klaus shot her a rather mean-spirited look she chose to ignore it. “Sucks but it’s the truth.”

“Besides that, most of the media and police in Gotham are already preoccupied.” Bruce added as he passed the most recent copy of the Gotham Gazette to Klaus and Violet. Taking up the entire front page was a headline that read “ _ARKHAM BREAK-OUT!!! Over 20 patients reported missing!”_

“So while people hyperfocus on this, our friends are still missing and nobody cares about apprehending Olaf?” Klaus asked.

“Just because the police are unlikely to do anything doesn’t mean we are, Klaus!” Violet said, nudging her brother’s side. “How many times in the past have adults been unreliable and we took care of ourselves? We just need to form a plan.”

Selina frowned at that. “That’s a nice sentiment and all, but it’s gonna be hard making any plans if we don’t have enough intel. I mean, we don’t even know where Olaf is, and Gotham has a lot of hiding places. I would know.”

“Well, we know sooner or later Olaf is going to come for us. So maybe simply preparing for that can be our first plan. Warning everyone around us about him. Making sure we can protect ourselves?” Violet tried.

“That seems most reasonable.” Bruce agreed. “And as long as we act smart, we can use Olaf to find Isadora and Duncan.”

Selina didn’t seem sold on the idea and simply shrugged. “I guess that’s good enough for now.”

As the children shared a few final details and thoughts, Alfred returned to the study to tell them dinner was served.

Following Bruce and Selina, the Baudelaires quickly arrived in the dining room where five plates had already been made up for them all. Alfred had made a delicious pasta dish with pesto made from scratch. As well as enough baked italien bread to go around and then some. And later for a desert there were apricot scones that Sunny especially enjoyed. Selina teased that the pesto was too “vinegary” and that the scones were too dry but still managed to leave the cleanest plate out of all the children seated there.

And despite their worries for the Quagmire’s safety. The youngsters were able to find a certain strength while sitting there at that dinner table, trying to talk about pleasant things. It can be rare to find others who have gone through the exact circumstances you have, but finding those who can at least understand and sympathize with your own plights can be a truly powerful thing.

Eventually though dinner came to an end and the Squalors returned to pick them up.

Alfred of course insisted on bagging the additional scones for the Baudelaires to bring home to their new guardians. And Bruce promised to be at school the next day to talk with Klaus more. And with that, the Baudelaires bid Alfred, Bruce and Selina good bye with lighter hearts then when they had arrived at the manor.

When they returned to penthouse however, they were met with the face of a man they hoped to never see again. At least not so soon. And so unprepared...

I feel it’s important to say that the feeling coursing through the Baudelaires at the sight before them was not mere nervousness, but true, sincere anxiety. The kind of anxiety that makes your stomach hurt with dread, your heart jump with fright, your body freeze with panic and your skin prickle with disgust. All while you are forced to witness something you hoped to never see again.

Such a feeling of anxiousness could only be shared by the Quagmire triplets.

After Duncan and Isadora Quagmire were captured once again the previous night, Count Olaf had been furious. He demanded to know who the other children were and what they’d told them. But Isadora made her resolve like steel, refusing to answer the vile man. Even Duncan, though he had tears in his eyes from fear, didn’t say a word. Which in turn only made Olaf more livid.

However even if the children had told him about Bruce or Selina, nothing would save them from the fate Olaf had in store for them. After driving for an additional hour Olaf brought his car to a screeching halt. From there, Olaf and his entire troupe dragged the Quagmires out of the car and down into a curious tunnel that lead underground. From there they walked, their path only lit by the flashlights held by the hook-handed man and henchperson of indeterminate gender. Walking in such silence filled the Quagmires with true anxiety and their fears grew with each step they were forced to take. Until they finally came to the cage...

Twenty-one hours they had been trapped there. No food. No water. No light of any kind. The only reason they even knew the time was due to the electric watch Duncan still had. And throughout that entire period, the children were left to wonder just what Olaf had planned for them next. And as time passed they wondered if this was Count Olaf’s final plan. Leaving them to starve in isolation? Never to see sunlight for the rest of their lives?

But then, just after midnight, they saw a light. And they heard a voice drift through the dark tunnels.

“Hey! You there! Hey!” Desperate, Isadora and Duncan cried out to the figure. Arms reaching through the bars of their cage, waving them closer. “Please help us! We’re trapped!”

“So I’ve heard…” The voice replied, seemingly chipper despite the dreary situation surrounding the children. They then began to cackle in a truly horrid manner that echoed through the damp tunnels.

Any growing hope that they were about to be rescued died just as quickly as it came. The stranger came closer, shining their flashlight directly into each orphan’s face before shining it on his own.

They didn’t know who the stranger was by his voice or face, but he was uncomfortably recognizable. The Quagmires flinched when the stranger slammed a sack hard onto the ground. Then with a flourish he fell to a knee and began to unpack.

“So you guys are twins, huh?” The stranger asked, snickering. He pulled out two water bottles and chucked them at the Quagmires aggressively. “That’s cute. You know I use to have a twin.”

The children tried to duck as the water bottles were thrown at them. But in such as small space there was nowhere to go. And though neither Quagmire thought of it in that moment, later they would be filled with sorrow upon realizing that this was the first time in their lives that they didn’t correct someone who called them twins instead of triplets.

“Well kiddies, we got nothing but time on our hands. Why don’t you tell me about yourselves? You guys like to back-stab each other too?”


End file.
